


Domestic Games

by theroomstops



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 23:24:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroomstops/pseuds/theroomstops
Summary: David and Julia, a sofa, late night work and a progressing state of undress.





	Domestic Games

**Author's Note:**

> Finally wrote a short one, and it's semi-smutty and a tad fluffy. That's how I roll.

Julia stretched gently and rolled her head from side to side, trying somehow to undo the damage of sitting on hardwood floors for hours. The ‘Montague’ engraved pen she always used - a graduation gift from her parents - rested neatly in her grip as she studied the outline of her next speech, while David snored on the sofa behind her. He looked so cute in his old tracksuit bottoms, the blanket she’d thrown over him earlier almost underneath him by now. He clutched a pillow in his arms, occasionally grunting and smiling a little in his sleep, little inaudible murmurs leaving his lips. She wondered for a second if maybe he was dreaming of her. Silly. She looked back at him and smiled to herself. Having him there is nice, even when he snores.

“PS Budd, aren’t you supposed to be protecting me?”

David woke up confused and startled, as Julia’s laughter filled the living room and he looked around his surroundings. He peaked up at the clock and realized he’d been napping for two hours. Stared at the door where he remembered saying goodbye to PC Patrick Haynes earlier, before he’d snuck back into her flat. He grinned sheepishly as he stretched. “You’re not my problem tonight.” He whispered as he kissed the back of her head, and he pulled on her t-shirt.

“I really have to finish this, I’m sorry. I’ll come play with you when I’m done.” The word ‘play’, said so innocently as she re-focused on her speech, triggered something in him. He held his body up, resting on one arm, and slowly lifted her hair away from the nape of her neck. He kissed her warm skin, slowly, softly. Didn’t stop until he saw her squirming a little under his touch, pleased by her reaction. He let his hand draw lazy circles down her back and could see, even from where he lay, that she was trying hard to concentrate on the task in front of her. Watched as her pen struck a word and replaced it with something else. Removed a sentence, made a note on the side of the paper, flipped the paper and started again. 

He grabbed her t-shirt at the bottom and pulled, grunting at the resistance when she didn’t move her arms. He shifted awkwardly and pulled at both sides, still lying down, panting as he tried to pull it up. Finally, he could feel her lift both arms, allowing him to take it off. He threw the shirt towards the dining room, and watched as tiny goose bumps formed on her skin. She took a deep breath, and he could see her jaw clench as narrow eyes focused on the paper in front of her.

“I can do this all night, Julia. As I said, you’re not my problem tonight.”

“I’m happy to ask Tom or Patrick to switch with you if don’t stop calling me a problem. Patrick’s looked rather spiffy lately, I’m sure he’d be happy to take your place if I’m boring you, David.”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” He unleashed the clasp on her bra and watched as it slid down her arms. She pulled it off quickly and threw it casually towards the table. As if she’d decided to play along with his game, but by her own set of rules. He watched it land on the floor next to her t-shirt. She continued flapping through papers, seemingly unfazed by her current half-naked state. If her own wouldn’t provoke a reaction, maybe his would. He made a few awkward attempts to pull off his tracksuit bottoms and t-shirt before he has success, and held it in front of her before he threw it towards the rest of the clothes on the floor. Merely a sigh escaped her as she shook her head a little, hair bouncing as she did, and he continued to trace circles on her back.

“Almost finished?” She held up a single finger as if to silence him and continued. Strike, write, make a note, flip the paper. He pulled his underwear off, holding them in front of her face as he dropped them into her lap. Almost mechanically, she held them up and flung them towards the rest of the pile.

He was almost impressed her persistence. Usually sex was a comfort for them, filled with intimacy and release. Something he longed for during the day of watching everything, watching _her_ , from a distance. They were playing a game of risk with everyone else, but not each other. Not since she had told him the truth, right before the explosion at St. Matthews. Afterwards, after the dirt and debris had been washed off, they’d put all their cards on the table. He’d confessed all his sins and fears, as she had hers, and then they’d moved on. _All was forgiven._ Both unwilling to let go of what they’d started, and afraid to change what they had. As the weeks and months had passed since their first encounter, their desperate nights together had welcomed a certain level of domesticity. Sometimes she’d fall into his arms after a long day, other days they’d be drawn to each other like moths to a fire and not even make it to the bedroom. And he found he enjoyed lazily watching TV while she completed her work on the sofa next to him, almost as much as he enjoyed being surprised in the shower. So he liked this game too. Trying new things together, safely protected by the trust they’d built. Perhaps she needed a little more provoking to speed it along. He couldn’t bear the alternative, to think he’d been wrong, that her lack of reaction was a sudden lack of interest. 

He caressed her skin, slowly over her back, coming around to her front. He felt her shift a little when he cupped her right breast in his hand, and played with her nipple. Surely that would do it. He pinched a little bit, caressing softly as he leaned over to kiss her shoulder blade. He saw the pen still going back and forth, up and down on the page. He thought he could see a slight tremor, but she didn’t reveal anything. His hand trailed further, touching the soft skin of her stomach, tickling softly at her side. Not ticklish then. She stayed still, though he was certain he could hear her breathing harder than before. He slid his hand down inside silk panties, the same way she had done in front of him when they’d first started. Felt wet folds confirm that she had nerves of steel, not a lack of interest as he’d started to worry about. His cock stirred as his lips curled into a satisfied smile.

As he continued letting his hand roam, he heard the pen hit sharply on the coffee table and fall over, onto the matt surface. She grabbed his hand almost painfully, and turned around, crawling on top of him on the sofa.

“If you would have just let me finish.” Her mouth inches from his, he could smell her perfume in her hair and she pressed herself against him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” His fingers tangled in her hair, holding onto her face as he kissed her. She moaned into his mouth. “Can you come and play now?”

“I don’t know, David, feels to me like you’ve already started playing without me.” He looked at curiously, unsure of what she meant. And then he watched as dark, seductive eyes locked onto his, as she crawled down his body until she reached her intended spot. His body shivered as she took him in her warm mouth, eyes closing in rapture as he played with a brown curl that fell onto his stomach. _Fuck, he loved domesticity._


End file.
